In the Long Run

For those of you who weren’t aware of it, Wal-Mart is very concerned about women and their health. To prove it, they hosted a Women’s Health Awareness Day last Saturday at our local store. They gave away free samples of various products, with the full-sized versions conveniently and prominently displayed nearby, obviously for our shopping convenience, because of course, they are not first and foremost interested in their bottom line, but in ours…or uh, make that, our health.

I was there to hand out flyers and answer questions on YMCA programs that promote women’s health. I had been given only a few instructions; I knew that my contact person’s name was Jan, and that I didn’t have to stay the entire six hours of the event.

When I arrived, no one seemed to be in charge, and the only Jan there was an equally uninformed volunteer from the community college who was assembling an informational table also. The in-store vision clinic set me up with a card table, chair and a plastic tablecloth next to Jan, the college lady. The Wal-Mart sample distributors gave me a large yellow poster for people to sign as they stopped at my table.

It seemed to be some sort of unspoken competition to see who could gather the most signatures on her poster. Signatures could only be obtained if someone stopped at the table. And people weren’t stopping at mine.

Maybe the reason was because every table but mine offered free samples. Wal-Mart employees were passing out samples of wrinkle-reducing face cream, hand lotion, pain reliever, shampoo, conditioner, and even energy bars. What more could you ask for if you were a woman interested in good health?? And Jan, the college lady, was handing out pens, toothpaste, stress balls, and flip-top calculators right next to me. My shabby fare consisted of flyers describing Y classes and schedules. At least they are on colored paper, I lamely noted.

I soon began trying to garner signatures with the lure of a “free class”. I handed people a (free) flyer about a wonderful, (and truly free) class that we offer at the Y for people who are trying to get back into an exercise routine. I had a few takers, but my yellow poster still lacked a respectable number of signatures.

Then the Wal-Mart lady from the Garnier sample table came over. “Can one of you ladies take over my display while I go on break? One of you can handle both your tables, can’t you?” Jan, as nice as she was, did not volunteer. Who was I to deny Gloria her break?

I guess I could have sabotaged Gloria while I handed out samples at her table. But instead, I helped fill up her poster while mine languished in obscurity with the paltry signatures I had acquired earlier. I don’t think anyone signed my poster while I was away. And when I returned to my place after Gloria’s break, I saw that people stopping at Jan’s table next door were being encouraged to “write small, because we’re almost full.”

Three hours later, I decided I’d had enough table tending. Regrettably, there had been few people who showed interest in my YMCA programs. I had the least number of people sign my poster. And I got a paper cut while handling my flyers. I packed up, and turned in my signature poster to one of the Wal-Mart employees. He accepted it with a pitying smile, and folded it up with the signatures out of sight.

I took one of Gloria’s pain reliever samples and one of Jan's stress balls, and went home. At least I have my health. And since I've got that, I don't really need to worry about signature posters.

Posted by Cyppy at 3:34 PM  2 comments

Securing lodging in Europe for our trip next month has become a lengthy, and somewhat tedious process. I have been trying to make reservations on my own, and am quite frazzled with all the details that are making the experience stressful rather that an exciting, anticipatory activity.

There are many websites offering bed and breakfast accommodations, and my Key Limey and I decided that staying in such places would increase our cultural awareness. The websites advertising the rooms require a deposit. They all have the assuring lock icon in my taskbar, but can I trust any of them? Can I believe the glowing descriptions of a "lovely decorated room with private bath, and secluded garden"?

I realized that the potential hosts were feeling the same trepidation about me. Our reservation in Paris required us to send a bank transfer of half the total room fee in advance, and to assume all the bank charges associated with it. When I balked and complained that the transfer fee was more than the money to be sent, I was told by the reservation agent that my host had agreed to allow me to pay the balance on arrival, and dispense with the bank transfer.

The agent went on to explain (her words): “However, the reason some owners ask for such a payment is that in the event a client cancels a booking at short notice the owner has some money for the reservation – so the owner wants me to say, please don’t cancel your booking! :)” I guess they are as suspicious of me as I am of them.

We obtained rooms in Paris and Rome with only a few glitches. But Munich has been a problem from the outset. First of all, I did not realize that the airport is about 40 miles away from the city center where we want to be, and our plane leaves at 6:30 AM. We had planned to take the train to the airport, but a potential host informed us, (his words) “Wow. But it should be feasible. The first subway departs 4:12 and will take 1:05 hour to the airport. It arrives there at 5:17. This should be sufficient for this early time.” That sounded a little sketchy so I began looking for a motel close to the airport.

I located several, and also found a private shuttle that was advertised for about 40 euros that could transport us to the airport for our early flight. But then I read the fine print. The advertised price “might vary, according to the date.” And according to the date I needed it, it was going to cost almost $200 to get to the airport! I think we would sleep in the terminal before paying for that pricey trip.

Although I am still worried about not having reservations in Munich, I was feeling good about our stay in Rome with Nelly, who has two little dogs, and has solicitously emailed us twice, asking about our arrival time and other arrangements. But now I’m starting to feel suspicious and untrusting again.

Maybe there really is no reassuringly polite Nona Nelly with two cute little dogs, a sweet grandmother who wants to share her rich and fascinating culture, and her meticulous dining room, with us. What if, like those credit card commercials, Nelly is really “Nero”, and wears wife beater tanks and spends his days playing Bocce and laughing with his pals about the latest American tourist (me) he’s ripped off in a bed and breakfast scam?!

And don’t even get me started on my worries about night train travel…

Posted by Cyppy at 9:55 PM  5 comments

I spent the last week in an arduous, week-long certification course for fitness testing and assessments. I had taken this course five years ago as the launch pad of my YMCA career, but this time I was one of four lab leaders directing participants through their practical tests.

This year’s training attracted 17 women, although the course is not limited to females. The lab leaders wondered if an all-female group would be so hormone-heavy as to cause problems. We were pleasantly surprised at the scarcity of tears (although there were some) and the nearly total absence of bickering or cattiness (maybe there was some of that going on back at the motel that we didn’t know about!)

The women made their way through a variety of emotions ranging from confidence to doubt, despair to giddiness, and frustration to pride. I was amazed that some of them handled the stress and pressure of the 14-hour days with poise and calm, and I sympathized with those who were nervous wrecks from the first practical exercise on.

At the end of the first night’s lab, it was clear that my lab group was the remedial group. My four 40-and 50-something women took longer to catch on to everything. It was true that some of them lacked the practical experience obviously apparent in other participants, but even when the complicated concepts and skills were explained in simpler terms, my ladies required much time and repetition to grasp them. I did my best to encourage and motivate them, and they responded with an enthusiastic group huddle and a “senior moment” cheer.

We had to laugh at our miscues, missteps, and bumbling mistakes during the week. We giggled, when, in a practical test, Dawn explained that body fat percentage could be used to predict a target heart weight (you’ve heard of heavy hands? how about a heavy heart?!) It was comic relief when Barb began wiggling and gyrating in a spontaneous belly dance to the monotonous beat while calibrating her metronome. And although it wasn’t funny at the time, we later laughed at the moment when Annie, while measuring heart rate response, did not notice she was holding her stopwatch backward in her hand, and pressed the clear button, instead of the start/stop button, and totally ruined her test.

By the end of the week, my group was hopelessly mired in a bog of failed practicals. The other groups were smugly finished with their practical exams, and were studying for their written test. My group kept struggling, kept re-testing, and unfortunately, kept failing. They were discouraged, fatigued, and very stressed.

I wish that I could report that in spite of all the anxiety and disappointments, my whole group pulled through, and each of the ladies passed the course. But I cannot. Only two of them managed to successfully complete the battery of practical exams and the written test. I felt bad about that.

But what I did feel good about was their spirit. I was inspired by the way these women supported and helped each other, even when it would have been easy to give up. They uplifted and comforted each other. They became friends despite diverse backgrounds and personalities. They were united in their desire and perseverance. And even when faced with the realization that they might not achieve their certification, these women held their heads high and were proud of what they did accomplish. And in the long run, I couldn’t have asked any more of them than that.

Posted by Cyppy at 7:00 PM  3 comments

These are a few of the facts about secondhand smoke. To me, the picture makes a statement as clearly and vividly as a recitation of the facts.

Posted by Cyppy at 1:29 PM  4 comments